


Inexplicable

by scienceblues



Series: peapod mchanzo week 2018 [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hypothermia, M/M, Peapod McHanzo Week, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 14:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13250034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scienceblues/pseuds/scienceblues
Summary: “What happened?”McCree sighs deeply. “You know how Volskaya sits right on a river?”(Day 1 of Peapod McHanzo Week - "Oh no, we have to share a bed...")





	Inexplicable

**Author's Note:**

> (I...mostly followed the prompt.)
> 
> Beta'ed by middlecyclone, who was kind enough to hold my hand through a lot of this since I haven't ficced in so long.
> 
> FYI: although there is no mention of drowning, there is a mentioned situation that may feel similar (character briefly fell into freezing water prior to start of fic). Please avoid if this may be upsetting to you!

“How many times have I told you that damn outfit’d be the end of you–”

Even worse than the sick swooping feeling in his gut telling McCree that he might be right is the fact that Hanzo isn’t answering in his defense.

McCree chances a look down while he waits to see if they’re clear to cross the sparsely populated road and get inside the safehouse. He still doesn’t like what he sees – Hanzo’s eyes are open, sure, though he’s shivering so hard he’s unable to speak – but it alleviates at least some of the clenching worry. It doesn’t stop him from swearing as he hikes Hanzo’s arm higher across his shoulder and starts moving again, though; he has a new appreciation for how solidly muscled Hanzo is, after hauling him all the way from Volskaya back to St. Petersburg proper.

Athena obligingly opens the door as soon as McCree’s feet hit the top step, and he shoulders past to deposit Hanzo none-too-gently in front of the unlit fireplace. Upon closer inspection, it’s not a wood-burning one like he had feared, but he does almost singe his eyebrows off when Athena turns it on and the gas fire begins dancing merrily over the fake logs.

There’s a linen closet stocked with towels and blankets sealed in plastic packaging, along with a first aid kit. McCree rips a few out of their bags and dumps the blankets in front of the fire, then cracks a biotic canister and sets it next to Hanzo, just in case. The impact that sent him flying off his perch and into the water looked nasty enough to cause severe bruising, if it hadn't damaged his ribs outright. McCree can appreciate the importance of maintaining a look, but a lack of body armor is just asking for trouble, in his opinion.

“Athena, you got vitals?”

“Affirmative. Forwarding to Dr. Ziegler.”

“Thanks, doll,” he says absently, kneeling down so he can shove Hanzo’s other sleeve off and begin briskly rubbing down the exposed skin with the towel. “Hey, honey. If you wanted a bath, all you had to do was ask. Would’ve fixed you up a hot one.”

Hanzo leans into the towels, shaking less now. “Am I–” He has to pause for breath, and McCree waits worriedly for the rest. “Am I truly on the same level as the AI?”

The comm in his ear chimes as McCree laughs at that, a bit giddy with relief for hearing coherent speech. He taps the comm to switch it on. “Everything come through all right?”

“Yes, and it's continuing to do so,” comes Mercy’s voice down the line. “What happened?”

McCree sighs deeply. “You know how Volskaya sits right on a river?”

“...I see. How long was he in the water?”

“Couldn’t say exactly. Less than a minute between when I last saw him fighting and when he got out, though.”

“He’s shivering, correct? Would you please manually confirm current heart rate and respiration rate?”

“Yeah, hold up.”

They spend the next couple of minutes in silence, McCree counting out each full minute to be certain of the accuracy. Hanzo’s eyes drift closed while McCree’s two fingers press lightly under the line of his jaw, and he leans agreeably against McCree’s warm bulk while they wait. A soft “eyes open, honey,” and they do, and McCree feels like he needs to catch his own breath as he rests a palm against Hanzo’s back, tracking the rise and fall of his ribs to make sure he counts right.

Only a moment after sending the updated values, Mercy’s voice returns. “Count yourself fortunate that you won’t have to recall much of the medic training I _know_ you didn’t pay full attention to. You must have recovered him very quickly; it appears he was not in the water long enough to induce anything more severe than very mild hypothermia. Did you find the first aid kit–”

“With the biotic canister? Got it goin’ about when we got in the door.”

There’s a small chuckle in his ear. “I suspected as much. His vitals are normalizing at a much faster rate than they would normally, and are nearly normal already. Keep an eye on him for any evidence of an altered mental state, and keep him comfortable, but Athena will continue monitoring vitals and let both of us know if he requires any further intervention. Do you have any more questions for me before you go?”

It’s hard to recall what else is important to check in the rush of relief that follows her words, but McCree remembers before he reflexively says no out of habit. “Any word on a pickup time and location? Saw the shuttle leave when we were ambushed, so I’m not sure if we’re gettin’ alternate transport, or…”

“I’ll ask Winston to send along the updated information, but I wouldn’t anticipate anything arriving for at least a few hours. Get some rest, Jesse – you did well.”

“Thanks, doc.”

Exhausted now that the danger – and adrenaline – have passed, McCree removes the comm and sets it to the side on one of the low tables set near the closest chair. He then turns his attention fully back to Hanzo, who looks half-asleep in the fireplace’s heat once more. Mercy was right, he does look a lot better – his hair’s still damp, which McCree sets about fixing with another vigorous rub of the towel, but his skin is beginning to flush from the warmth of the fire. “Don’t know how much you heard of that, but Mercy says you’ll be fine as ever soon enough. How’re you feeling?”

“Very sympathetic to Dr. Zhou.” Cracking an eye open, Hanzo huffs out a laugh at the openly confused expression McCree is sure he is wearing and clarifies, “I only feel a little chilled, but...I don’t know that I will feel warm enough for quite some time, even with the fireplace. I may just sleep here.”

Standing, McCree says, “Oh, speaking of! That’s not a bad idea, lemme just–” He’s off like a shot to the linen closet, piling his arms high with the remainder of the packaged blankets. There’s a selection of basic clothing in sizes small, medium, and large, and he grabs a few of those as well for Hanzo to pick from. He dumps his bounty on the tiny sofa when he gets back. “Here, you can pick from these,” he says, handing over the clothes.

And then he realizes – they’ve been dating for a grand total of a _month_. They’ve never so much as been in each other’s rooms, out of a mutual agreement to avoid temptation and move slow while they relearn how to exist in the company of others after too many years fending for themselves. But here Hanzo is, accepting the dry clothes, and tugging at the wet, and–

McCree turns away and busies himself with opening the packaging of the other blankets, enough to cushion the bare, worn carpet until it should be soft enough to lay on. He carefully folds the plastic that remains after he’s opened all of them, keeping his hands busy with folding it all down to a small size, pressing harder along the length of the creases as he goes to make sure they don’t immediately unfold.

A hand touches him gently on the shoulder, and McCree starts a bit to find Hanzo standing behind him, now dressed in loose black clothing. The corner of Hanzo’s mouth turns up when he sees the sheer mass of blankets Jesse has gathered. “Did you find enough of these?”

“Alright, don’t get started–”

“Perhaps this safehouse has another closet. I don’t believe you have enough for two people.”

“Quit your teasin’! That river was more ice than water, let me fuss over you!”

Hanzo raps his knuckles against the body armor covering his chest. “Go change,” he says, picking up the untidy pile of blankets from the couch. “Armor, chaps, and boots off, at the _very_ least.”

It’s a fair enough demand, though McCree ends up going back to the linen closet to change into another set of spare clothes. The air at the end of the hallway is much cooler than by the fireplace, and he hisses as the chill hits his skin while he changes as quickly as possible.

When McCree returns, he finds Hanzo laid out with his back to the fireplace. From here, it looks like Hanzo is fighting a losing battle with sleep, but he still rallies enough to lift the blankets in a clear invitation. McCree slides in and finds himself pulled insistently against a firm chest.

“Never took you for a snuggler,” McCree says, amused. He’s feeling rather pinned by the arm locked around his waist, but hell if Hanzo ain’t cute when he’s sleepy.

“You are very warm,” Hanzo mumbles against the skin of his neck. “I am very cold.”

“Well, you’ve got at least a few hours to warm up,” McCree says, rubbing one hand up and down Hanzo’s back. Hanzo leans into the touch, relaxing further towards sleep. “I’ll let you know when we gotta go.”

The heat of the fire, the blankets, and the archer beside him are conspiring to knock McCree right out, too. He’d almost rather stay awake and enjoy the all-encompassing feeling of warmth. But he eventually loses out, eyes drifting shut and Hanzo’s breath steady against his neck as the light from the biotic canister fades.

**Author's Note:**

> No fic for tomorrow - I had too big of an idea so that'll be up at an unknown point in the future - but I should have something for Day 3 on Thursday!
> 
> I haven't written or published anything in years but have wanted to get back into it, and this gave me a wonderful excuse to! The fics for this week are the first I've written for Overwatch, though I hope to keep going after this week, so gentle concrit is welcome - I'm very rusty at the whole writing thing.


End file.
